


Homecoming

by burning_books



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo is a little bit submissive in this one, Reader probably has anxiety, Smut, Soft Kylo Ren, Wounded Kylo, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burning_books/pseuds/burning_books
Summary: You and Kylo Ren had a steady, comfortable, sex-only relationship. He was predictable, coming to you at the same time one or two nights a week. But then he stops coming altogether, and you start to wonder what went wrong. NSFW.





	Homecoming

It's late. You lay on your back in your (your? Was it yours? It was hard to tell sometimes whose it was, because it was far too big for your small frame) bed, staring up into the dark at the blank white ceiling above you. It has been a month, you think, maybe more, since the last time. You're not sure. You lost track. He's busy, you tell yourself. The commander of the First Order has more important things to do than spending his time with you.

You try very hard to remind yourself of this. It's especially hard at night. It's especially hard tonight in particular, you think. You're trying too hard to remember how long it's been since the last time, and you're starting to wonder. You're starting to worry for the safety of your commander. It makes you anxious, and you grip the blanket tighter. 

Your thoughts drift through the empty darkness, wandering away from the commander and on to a certain red-haired general. You might be his best warrior, but Hux hates you. He's seen the way the commander looks at you when he thinks no one's looking (Ren was never very good at being subtle about his emotions), and you've seen the way Hux looks at you when he thinks you're not paying attention. He hates that his superior stole you right out from under him. He especially hates it when you ask about Ren. Every time you see that shock of red hair, you have to try too hard to stop yourself from asking when the commander will be returning. You bit your lip viciously this afternoon in that meeting with him, dug your nails a little too hard into your palms. You drew blood in both places, but at least you managed to keep your mouth shut. 

It's been too long, you think, trying to will the blank ceiling above you to tell you where he is and if he's alright. Your lip still stings from this afternoon. You're starting to wish you'd paid more attention in that meeting. 

You keep imagining him coming in, straining your ears to catch the door hissing open. You wish he was here, in this too-big not-your bed with you. You want to listen to his steady breaths as he sleeps next to you. You want to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. You can almost imagine those things as your eyes flutter closed. 

You dream of him again. 

The alarm clock rings loudly, jolting you from your slumber. You reach over to shut it off and climb out of your suddenly too-empty bed. You're starting to hate your alarm clock for ripping you away from him. It takes considerable willpower to keep from smashing the damn thing to pieces. 

Your motions are automatic as you numbly follow your morning routine. You wish he was here, getting ready alongside you for another long day. He isn't, so you dress for training and exit your chambers, seeking something physical to get your mind off his palpable absence. 

As you pass by the groups of troopers wandering the ship, you hear rumors that the commander is finally home. That it's been two months (not one, like you'd thought last night), when the mission was only supposed to take him two weeks. 

You ignore them, keeping your head down, eyes trained on your steadily marching feet until you reach the training room. You do a few stretches, warming up before you unleash a furious attack on an unsuspecting training dummy. You beat it viciously, forcing yourself to use all the focus in your body, forcing your thoughts away from the commander and those rumors from the hallway. They were rumors, nothing more. They couldn't be true. You keep attacking the dummy, beating the stuffing out of it until you run out of breath. Eventually you stumble and fall to the ground, exhausted, staring up at the damage you've managed to do. 

Its head dangles loosely to one side, held on only by a fistful of threads. One of its arms rests, palm-up, on the floor a few feet away. The other dangles limply, missing half its stuffing. Yet more stuffing leaks out from several tears in the mannequin's soft body. There are also bits and pieces of the fluff scattered around you on the floor like little clumps of snow. 

"(y/n) , I think it's dead. If I didn't know better, I'd say you look like you're having a Ren Temper Tantrum." You turn to the voice, finding a blonde stranger standing in the doorway of the training room. You stand quickly, taking up a defensive posture. "He's rubbing off on you," he chuckles. 

"What do you want?" you ask him. You don't bother to ask why he knows your name. 

"Relax, I'm not here to kill you," he says, noting your stance. "General Hux sent for you. He wants you to meet him on the bridge as soon as possible. You might want to get changed," the blonde adds, looking you up and down. "This seems like it might be pretty important." He leaves before you can say anything else. 

You enter the bridge nervously. You've donned your First Order uniform, complete with a sweeping black cloak. Your hands are shaking inside your standard-issue gloves. You can't stop yourself from wondering what the hell Hux wants you for. You hate that meeting him alone makes you this nervous. 

You spot a figure with their back to you on the far side of the bridge and walk toward them. They are standing, concealed in shadow, so it's hard to tell who it is from the back.

When you're a mere ten feet away, you call out, "Hux, I'm here. What do you need?" Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves. You curse yourself for being so cowardly. 

The figure turns and strides toward you. You freeze when you see who it is. 

"(y/n) ," he says. "Thank God you came so quickly. It's a matter of extreme urgency." He takes you in his arms, holding you tight. "I missed you."

"Kylo," you breathe, hardly daring to believe it. "Kylo." You repeat his name like a prayer. 

"I'm home," he mumbles into your hair. You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tightly. 

When you finally break apart, Kylo Ren, commander of the First Order, steps back and looks at you. "Oh, (y/n) ," he says, "I'm so sorry."

"How long were you gone?" you ask before you can stop yourself. 

"Just over two months." He leans down, takes your gloved hand in both of his, and presses it to his lips. "Come on, let's go back to your chambers. I'll tell you what happened, but first I just need to lay down."

You smile up at him and lead him by the hand up to your chambers. The door hisses shut behind you and Kylo flops onto the massive bed, groaning loudly. 

"Not even going to take off your boots, Commander?" you tease him, pulling off your own. 

"I'm too exhausted. That mission was only supposed to take a week, two tops, but then..."

"What happened, Kylo?" you ask, curious and innocent, as you drape your cloak neatly over the back of a chair. 

"I got shot," he says, bluntly, "in my left thigh. I couldn't walk, and Snoke ordered us to stay, ordered us to finish the mission. I wanted to retreat, to regroup, take time to heal... Snoke would have - he would've killed you if I left before the end, (y/n) ."

You drop your gloves on the chair, now clad only in a black long-sleeved tee shirt and black pants. "I couldn't let him hurt you, (y/n) ," you hear him say, and something inside you stirs. His voice trembles, thick with emotion. He covers his face with one leather-clad hand. Your own eyes mist over. You cross the room, sit next to him on the bed. "Kylo," you say, "I'm here, and you're home safe and sound. That's what matters."

You hadn't realized how much he cared for you. You wonder when his feelings began. 

He tries to pull you to him, but you slip from his grasp and stand up. He moves his hand to look at you, confused and maybe a little hurt. His brown eyes are bright with tears, the skin beneath them puffy red. He sniffles. "Let's get these boots off you," you say, kneeling down to unlace one. You gently remove his shoes and socks for him, then massage his undoubtedly aching feet. He lets out an appreciative groan. "My poor baby," you mumble. "Let me take care of you."

Once you've finished with his feet, you stand up again. "Sit up," you instruct him, and he quietly obeys. You crawl around behind him and reach around to remove his cowl and cloak. You carry the heavy fabrics to your other chair and set them down. Kylo pulls the gloves from his hands and drops them on the floor. You return to the bed and situate yourself behind him. Pressing your face to his back, you breathe him in for a few long moments. He pulls your arms around his waist, mumbling about how much he's missed you and how sorry he is. You squeeze him tightly and tell him that it's alright. 

Eventually you release your grip from his waist, and Kylo whimpers in complaint, but it quickly shifts into a blissful groan when you start to rub his shoulders. "You're so tense," you point out. He just hums in agreement, contented by your ministrations. 

When he's had enough, he takes your hands in his and pulls them back around his waist. "I missed you so much, (y/n) ," he mumbles, more to himself than you. 

"I missed you too, Kylo."

After a few more minutes of holding him, you wiggle out of his embrace and tell him to lay down on his stomach. He does, and you straddle him, beginning to rub his back.

/Ugh,/ you think to yourself, /this would be so much easier if he'd take off his shirt./ Apparently you were thinking very loudly, because Kylo shifts under you. "Allow me," he says, and you move to allow him the space to peel his shirt away. He tosses it to the floor and flops back to the bed. Apparently you spend a few moments too long staring at his newly bared back, because he starts to whine for you to return. You giggle and resume your task, playfully scolding him for being so spoiled. 

Once you've relieved most of the tension from his back, you press a tender kiss just between his shoulder blades. You startle when he lets out a grunt of surprise, jumping away from him. He rolls over, facing you. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, his brown eyes avoiding your green ones, "I didn't mean to scare you."

He sounds so pitiful and his strong arms look so inviting that you can't help but curl up into him, lightly rubbing your nose against his. "It's alright," you soothe him, your faces still so close. He finally meets your eyes, but the contact only lasts for a moment before his lids flutter closed and his lips are pressed to yours. You embrace him, kissing him back with perhaps a little too much passion, but you can't help yourself, and you can't be bothered to reign yourself in. Your heart flutters as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dragging over your bottom lip in all the right ways. His lips are irresistibly soft somehow, and you're so many kinds of addicted to him in this moment that nothing matters more than tangling your fingers in his lovely black hair and pulling him closer. 

He's never kissed you like this before, you can't help but think. Usually his kisses are hot and heavy and oh-so needy, and he's trying to get you out of your clothes as fast as he can. You always thought every time would be the last, like you were just a fucktoy to him, meaningless and to be tossed aside and forgotten once he bored of you. 

This kiss is... different. Gentle, sort of. But that isn't the right word. It's tender, loving, almost reverent. It makes you feel like a goddess, no longer worthless. 

"Good," he mumbles against your lips, apparently unwilling and unable to pull himself entirely away from this captivating kiss to speak. "You're so beautiful... more beautiful than any goddess could... ever hope to be."

And then his hands begin to worship your curves, his long fingers trailing down your ribcage and over the curve of your hips, all the way down your thigh, then back up again. Your own hands begin to move of their own volition, brushing lightly over his powerful chest. Your fingertips skim over his abs, appreciating each muscle and each scar. His skin is unbelievably soft, and you long to kiss every inch of him, but the way his lips have captured yours has created a spell that's impossible to break. 

But your thoughts start to wander, as they all-too-often do, and you cannot keep yourself any longer from pondering last night's loneliness. You cannot keep yourself from thinking that Kylo Ren almost certainly has more important things to do than lay here and kiss you, now that he's returned from his mission. Certainly Snoke wants to see him. Certainly he has briefings to give, meetings to attend... 

Kylo suddenly pulls away from the kiss and takes your face in his hands. "(y/n) ," he says softly, "I almost died out there. The wound got infected, bad. I wanted to just give up, let it be the end. I was so tired. But the thought of never seeing you again - it was too much. I fought my injury with everything I had for you. I thought of you when I felt too weak to go on. Brushing with death like that... It makes you realize what's important. And right now, now that I'm home and we're both alive, there is nothing more important than you. There will never be anything more important than you." He hesitates, glances down shyly before pulling his gaze back up to yours. "(y/n), I... I love you."

"Kylo Ren, I love you too," you tell him, and he lights up with the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. You can't help but smile back. "I have loved you since the first time I saw you take off your mask, the first time you went from Kylo Ren, commander of the First Order and destroyer of the Resistance, to Kylo Ren, the human being."

Before he can respond, you sweep him into another world-shattering kiss. After a few moments, he hums contentedly against your lips, making your whole body vibrate with the rumble of his voice. You pull him closer, as close as you can get him. Everything inside of you is on fire, hot and bright and hungry for more, ready to devour him. He melts into you and his fingers slip themselves under the hem of your shirt. You shudder at the bare hint of contact, the pads of his fingers brushing the curve of your hip bone. His hand pushes itself up further, daring to explore your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He is all you can think about, his lips and his hands consuming your every thought until you and Kylo and the bed beneath you are the only things in the galaxy. 

When you pull yourself away from his lips, it is only to pull your shirt off before diving back into him. You're immediately caught up in the way his skin feels against yours, the way your stomachs press together when you breathe in sync. He groans with the contact, the heavenly sound reverberating in your bones. It makes you shiver and press closer to him. You're trying to take in every detail of him like it's the first time. And it is, in a way, you suppose. 

His kisses get needier, his touches aren't so gentle anymore. He shifts on top of you, pinning you to the bed. He bites your lower lip, and you wince from the pain and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. He apologizes, and you shake your head. You'll tell him later. Taking advantage of the break, Kylo begins to kiss his way down your neck, sucking little red marks down its curve. He lingers longer at the place where your neck meets your shoulders, sucking and biting, marking you as his. He's left marks before, jealous and possessive as he is, but none this dark, none this visible. It'll last about two weeks, you think. You'll have to start wearing scarves. 

"Don't you dare hide it, (y/n)," he mumbles into your neck. "I want that damn fool Hux to know you're mine. I want the whole fucking ship to know you're mine."

The thought of Hux's face flushing the color of his hair when he sees the hickey makes you laugh, but it quickly shifts to a moan as Kylo works his way down to kiss the curve of your breast. You can feel his hardness pressing into your thigh as his back curves upward to accommodate his size, allowing him to continue worshipping your breasts. Today seems to be all about you, and you can't say you're complaining, especially not when a man this gorgeous is doing the pleasuring. 

Suddenly he snaps your bra strap, not hard enough to be painful, but enough to get your attention. "Off," he commands, and you simply adjust, allowing him to undo the clasps and expose your chest to his gaze. Without hesitation he sucks one of your nipples, rolling the other between his fingers. You don't bother to suppress your moans. 

He bites you then and you whine, writhing in sweet pleasure-pain. He releases you suddenly, kissing a burning trail to your other breast, the nipple already reddened by his fingers. Your nails drag up his back, undoubtedly leaving long red lines, as he continues his exquisite torture. "Kylo" is slowly becoming the only word you can remember. 

He finally releases your breasts, his burning lips trailing down your ribcage to tease above the waist of your jeans. The heat of his lips begins to coil low in your belly as he worships your tender skin. He almost has you convinced that you're his deity and he your humble servant. 

His nimble fingers make quick work of the fastenings of your jeans, and he pushes the waistband to your knees. You yank them off unceremoniously and toss them on the floor. 

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer as he runs his finger over the growing wet spot on your underwear, illiciting a low moan from you. His fingers trail up and slide into the elastic waistband, but before he can slide it down over your hips you catch his wrist. "Not yet," you tell him, gazing down at his still-clothed lower half. He immediately rises from the bed and pushes off both his pants and his boxers in one swish, leaving him standing bare before you. His cock twitches under your gaze, and you can tell he is longing for your touch. 

"Oh, Kylo," you breathe. "I could just stare at you like this forever. You're a work of art." 

It's obvious that he's fighting the urge to pin you to the bed and take what he wants from you, especially with the way he's holding his hands behind his back. Every muscle in his body looks coiled like a dangerous predator ready to pounce. His cock is practically begging for your touch. 

"In fact," you continue with a smirk, "I think I might do just that. Stare at you. Nothing else."

He growls low in his throat, and his cock twitches again. "(y/n)," he whines, "that's not fair..." He's so vulnerable like this, you notice, standing naked and wanting so badly to make love to you that you can feel it in the air. 

"What isn't fair, Kylo?" you ask him, coyly. You can't help yourself; you want to play with him a little, like he played with you. 

"You can see how bad I want you and how hard I'm trying to control myself and you... you do that... it isn't fair." A blush rises on his cheeks. "Y-you won't make me stand here forever, right?" he stutters. So shy. 

"Mmm. As much as I want to stare at your perfect body forever, I have other plans for you tonight. Come make yourself useful, won't you?" You gesture towards your underwear. Kylo reverently eases them down your legs and drops them to the floor. Pushing your legs apart, he picks up where he left off, worshipping your hips and thighs with open-mouthed kisses and bites that have you gripping the sheets and writhing with pleasure and desire. "Kylo, you ass - ah - stop teasing me," you say, reaching down and pulling him by his soft raven hair to your dripping center. 

"Fine," he breathes into your wet folds, making you shiver. His tongue flicks against your clit and then drags down to taste your entrance. His breath is cold against your wet heat, causing goosebumps to pickle on your thighs and hips. The flat of his skillful tongue rasps over and over your folds and you can't be bothered to suppress your moans, writhing with pleasure. 

"Stop moving," he mumbles into you. The vibrations of his voice make you shudder involuntarily and his hands press down on your hips to keep you still. The things he's doing with his tongue are making you see stars, and you're still struggling against his steady grip as he laps at your clit. 

He presses the tip of his tongue into your entrance once, twice, three times, then slows to a gentler pace, nuzzling his nose against your now-sensitive clit. 

"I love you, (y/n)," he mumbles, lifting his hands from your hips and kissing his way back up your body. 

"I love you too, Kylo," you manage to say before his lips capture yours again. You can taste your arousal on his lips as he kisses you. 

When he pulls away from your lips, you pout, but it doesn't last long - he's nibbling at your earlobe and mumbling all sorts of nasty things in your ear, making you writhe beneath him. 

"Baby, I wanna fuck you so hard the whole damn galaxy hears you scream my name," he says hotly, thrusting his hips so his cock presses against your thigh. 

"Then what are you waiting for?" you ask, yanking him by his gorgeous hair back to your lips with one hand and clawing at his back with the other. 

He moans against your lips and positions himself against your entrance, teasing you by pushing in ever so slightly then pulling away again. 

After a few times you can't be bothered to let him tease you much more, so the next time he presses in, you grab his ass and force him into you as deep as he can go. You growl his name and he starts to thrust into you, finally filling you up and giving you the friction your body has been begging for. His pace is slow at first, tender. He is making love to you, not just fucking you, and you love it. But eventually the slow pace gets to be too slow. 

"Kylo, fuck - Ky, move," is all you can string together. He gets the hint, though, and pounds into you mercilessly. 

"Ah, (y/n), fuck - you feel so damn good," he moans, his breath hot on your cheek. 

"Nnnh, Ky, don't stop, please don't -" you cry out, gripping him tighter, thrusting your hips in rhythm with his. "I'm so fucking close -" your words are cut off by a loud moan. 

"Cum for me, baby," he pants into your ear. You scream his name over and over as he fucks you even harder. "Kylo, Kylo, KY-" you chant, orgasm cutting his name off as he finally pushes you over the edge. His release follows quickly, his hips stilling and his hot seed spilling into you. He lays on top of you for several moments, both of you breathing heavily, still joined as you recover. 

He eventually shifts, moaning when his cock slips out of you. Kylo rolls onto his back next to you, his body glistening with sweat in the low light. 

"Kylo, you're even more beautiful now than you were before," you say, taking in the sight of his spent body. 

He just hums in response, but the corners of his lips twist upwards into an exhausted, blissful smile. 

After you've caught your breath, you get up and walk to your bathroom, cleaning yourself up before grabbing a towel for Kylo. You bring it out to him and he hums gratefully, cleaning himself off. When he's finished he tosses the towel to the floor and pulls you against his body, wrapping both of you in the comforter. 

Before you drift off, you can't help but ask him something. "Hey, Kylo?" 

He groans sleepily. "Mhm?" 

"Does this mean we're officially a couple now?" 

He ponders this for a long moment. 

"I know this isn't the most romantic way to ask you, but you started it. (y/n) , I'm... I'm so in love with you, and... I want you to be mine. Will you... Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks quietly. So shy. So sweet. 

"Of course I will, Kylo Ren," you say, your stupid grin finding its way into your voice. "You can give me flowers tomorrow." 

You both laugh and he holds you tighter. "I love you so much, (y/n) ."

"I know. I love you too, Kylo."

After a few minutes, his breathing evens out against your back and you know he's fallen asleep. It's not much longer before you follow suit.


End file.
